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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23145463">Up in the Grey Hills</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/regshoe/pseuds/regshoe'>regshoe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Up in the Grey Hills [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Flight of the Heron - D. K. Broster</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death Fix, Hurt/Comfort, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:27:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,972</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23145463</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/regshoe/pseuds/regshoe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Searching for Charles Edward Stuart in the hills above Arisaig, Keith Windham encounters an entirely different enemy—and an unexpected rescue.</p><p>Or, what if Lachlan's timing hadn't been quite so opportune?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ewen Cameron/Keith Windham</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Up in the Grey Hills [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Up in the Grey Hills</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luzula/pseuds/Luzula">Luzula</a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyarrowen/pseuds/Hyarrowen">Hyarrowen</a> for beta reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun was setting far away over the sea. As the narrow track wound around the side of a crag, the low golden rays shone suddenly across Keith's face; then another jagged outcrop of rock loomed overhead, and the ground beneath was plunged as suddenly back into shadow. He had spent the day heading eastwards, inland from Arisaig, along such rough paths as this one by which he was now returning, following the report of a company recently arrived to join him there that a party of Highlanders apparently making for the coast had been seen travelling that way. It was a change from his late routine of patrolling the coast between here and Morar, where the ground was, for once, relatively flat. These hills were lower than those that cast their shadows over the Great Glen, but every bit as wild and rugged, and—as now, when the ground before him suddenly opened out, and he could see all the way to the west coast and the islands beyond it—every bit as bleak. The tumbled slopes before him held here and there a patch of low trees, or a group of rude cottages, but nowhere was there a trace of any traveller. That report had come to nothing. Keith had sent the man who accompanied him back in haste with the news, himself lingering only to make doubly sure. Any lapse in thoroughness now might give the Pretender's son that chance which Keith must not give him.</p><p>The dying sun cast a dazzling brightness over a strip of sky that grew narrower every moment, for above it the clouds were gathering, dark and threatening—and Keith had by now been in this country long enough to understand their threat only too well. It was a striking sight, to be sure, but hardly an encouraging one, and he turned back down the path with renewed pace. The heather and bracken around him shivered in a gust of wind as he went.</p><p>Up in these hills he was alone with his own thoughts, as he had so often been since coming to this desolate coast. Perhaps because it was nearing the end of a long and frustratingly fruitless day, or perhaps simply because there was now no reason not to, he made no effort to direct those thoughts away from the object to which they had as often strayed. Here between the wide sky and the wider water, on what felt like the outer edge of the earth, the mind seemed to work more calmly. And perhaps, therefore, it was an appropriate place in which to have a realisation which had made his lightning flash of Fort Augustus look rather a dim candle flame.</p><p>Fort Augustus... He remembered, with a certain wry amusement, Major Guthrie's jests about the imaginary sister or wife who had supposedly inspired his regard for Ewen Cameron's welfare. There had, after all, been another possibility, one which required no female intermediary and which had, apparently, not occurred even to Guthrie's coarse mind—or perhaps he would have thought it going too far to say anything of it.</p><p>Not that Keith was much troubled on that account: slim as his personal experience of such things was, he had not spent twelve years in the King's service without seeing a little of them, and he had previously, with straightforward consistency, thought them simply as foolish and pointless as any other sort of sentimental attachment. Well, he thought otherwise now.</p><p>There was the sun again, shining between the gnarled, bent trunk of a rowan tree and the lowering ceiling of cloud, casting gold across the blue water. Keith paused a moment to look at it, and smiled to himself. Perhaps there was something to appreciate in such sights, after all.</p><p>But now he must turn his steps, and his thoughts, back towards his immediate goal. For there was no use in thinking further of Ewen; if his foster-father's prophesying was to be believed, they would not meet again. Keith regretted that all the more for the new light in which he now saw his own feelings. Yet perhaps it was for the best. Ewen might have lost his pretty fiancée at Inverness—Keith was not certain just what had happened there, for Ewen had not wished to speak of it, but he gathered the engagement was no more—but he could hardly hope... In any case, Ewen was safe now, in all likelihood still hidden away in the hills above Ardroy.  He was glad of that.</p><p>Already the light was beginning to go, and the weather was turning less kindly. The track followed the steep banks of a stream densely lined with birch trees, and the leaves of the birches shivered in another sudden gust of wind which blew chill from the sea, raising its voice from a whisper to a moan—</p><p>—but there was another sound beneath the wind.</p><p>Keith turned, all at once on the alert, just in time to see the wild-looking Highlander darting towards him, dirk in hand. He had moved quickly indeed: there was no cover on the slope down which he must have run, yet Keith did not see him until he was almost upon him. But he had not been quick enough. Keith drew his sword and faced his assailant. With a furious single-minded purpose, the man plunged his dirk towards Keith's chest. Keith swung his sword upwards to deflect the thrust, and the arm holding the dagger faltered and went wide. The clash of metal on metal, with the wind behind it rising higher yet, was a sudden chaos in the cool evening air.</p><p>He had succeeded in knocking the dirk out of the man's hand, and had the presence of mind to move back and stand upon the weapon before any attempt could be made to regain it. The senseless attack had obviously been made with the intention of taking the best advantage of surprise. Now the Highlander took in at a glance the utter failure of this intention, the sword still in Keith's hand and the pistol in its holster at his side. For a second he simply stared at Keith, his face, which was horribly disfigured all down one side, a mask of hatred on the other. Then he turned and ran.</p><p>Keith ran after him for a short distance—was the man too coward to surrender when he had lost a fight!—but found himself getting out of breath unwontedly quickly. As the Highlander melted away into the trees further along the burn in that uncanny way of theirs, he gave up the chase.</p><p>Perhaps, he thought, sheathing his sword, it was not wise to go so much alone in these remote places.</p><p>The fight and subsequent chase, brief as they had been, had tired him, and he felt that he must sit down and rest for a while before continuing on his way. And it was only when he did so, and put his hand to his side to catch his breath, and saw how it came away all over blood, that he realised that the dirk had not missed its mark after all.</p><p>Keith staggered to his feet; he could still stand and walk, then, and he must do so. For it was now more important than ever that he should return to Arisaig and his men waiting there with all haste: might not this man have been some servant of the Pretender's son, sent to disable Keith and put him out of the way of an attempted escape? It would explain his sudden flight: enough of his purpose accomplished, he had gone back to his master.</p><p>A few minutes more and night began to set in. The clouds which had threatened to hide the sun now covered the place where it had been, reaching down to the dusky horizon and blurring into the outlines of the islands. Keith tramped on grimly along the side of the stream, for he must do his duty. The pain, kept at bay by the shock of his sudden attack, had caught up with him at last, and his continued movement was not helping.</p><p>No, he decided suddenly, it was no good. He would not think of abandoning his purpose, but at this moment he could not keep going without a rest. There was rather a worrying amount of blood... Moving off the track, he sat down heavily with his back against a birch tree. He tried to unfasten his coat and examine the wound, but his hands would not obey him, and his eyes kept drifting upwards to where the higher branches of the tree were silhouetted against the darkening sky. They were hung with ragged tendrils of grey lichen, and at their uncanny appearance he thought once again what an uncongenial country this was. But, nevertheless, this was the best rest he could find, and he would stay here a few more moments.</p><p>So thinking, he fell into a swoon.</p><p>*</p><p>He awoke some time later—for it was now quite dark—to a voice saying, 'There, Keith. No, hold still—'</p><p>Keith tried to look around him. Someone was bending over him in the firelight—and why was there a fire? He did not remember making one—and that voice, impossibly welcome, was speaking to him again. He thought it was a question. 'What?' he said, vaguely.</p><p>'Have some water?' A cup was pushed gently into his hands. He took it and drank, and at the cool draught his head seemed to clear a little.</p><p>Ewen—for, somehow, it was he—had gone back over to the little fire, in the hollow of a boulder a few paces away, and was rummaging in the bag he had left beside it. A pony was grazing quietly behind the boulder, and raised its head to look at him as he went. He returned carrying a bundled-up shirt.</p><p>'This will do,' he said, half to himself. 'I shall do what I can—though it may not be very comfortable.' He frowned at Keith, worried eyes very blue even in the dim light from the fire. 'How are you feeling?'</p><p>Keith thought this question a little superfluous, given the circumstances. 'I have been better,' he managed.</p><p>Ewen knelt down beside him again and resumed working at the fastening of his coat, followed by his waistcoat. In a few moments more he had untied Keith's scarlet sash and was using it, together with the folded shirt, to improvise a bandage and dressing. Keith tried not to flinch as his hands brushed over the wound, which was once again making itself felt more sharply; but he must have given some sign of distress, for Ewen murmured an apology and paused for a moment before continuing his work. Keith, still half-asleep and slightly muzzy, lay quietly and watched him; in this state the little frown of concentration on Ewen's face, and the way the firelight caught the red in his hair, were something of a distraction from his pain.</p><p>Eventually it was done, and Ewen went to wash his hands in the stream; the banks this far up were gentler than they had been, but still steep enough that he disappeared out of sight. Keith, thus left alone for a moment, examined the bandage. It was creditably done given the conditions, certainly better than his own efforts had been for Ewen's injury in the hut upon Ben Loy, and the pain already seemed to be fading a little. He tried to sit up, and found he could just prop himself in a sort of half-sitting position against the tree.</p><p>Meanwhile, Ewen had returned. 'Will you have something to eat?' he said.</p><p>'Hmm, that sounds promising,' said Keith. 'There is some food in my knapsack,' and he indicated where he had abandoned the bag on the other side of the tree. 'You must take some of it yourself, as well.'</p><p>'Thank you.' Ewen undid the bag and pulled out the things which Keith had carried with him from Arisaig in anticipation of a longer journey. Amongst Ewen's own provisions were a bag of oatmeal and some bread, and in a short time he had put together an adequate little meal for them both. 'There is more water there, if you want it,' he added, nodding at the cup which he had refilled from the stream. 'I must apologise for not having any brandy, or I should have given you some earlier, of course. We are obliged to travel light.'</p><p>Keith nodded slowly. Ewen was, he supposed, making the same journey as the man he had come here to seek. But he wondered who 'we' were or had been, for, besides the pony, Ewen appeared to be alone.</p><p>They ate in silence for some minutes. The peace of the night was broken only by the crackling of the fire, the little noises made by the pony in its grazing and the restless murmur of the wind; and, once, by a harsh and eerie wail from what Keith could only suppose was one of the strange birds of this country—not, he thought, a heron. The bird, whatever it was, must have settled down to its roost after that, for it did not disturb them again.</p><p>'Keith,' said Ewen, when they had both finished eating—and his heart twisted with joy to hear Ewen continuing to call him by that name, whatever had prompted him to do so at first—'will you tell me how this happened?'</p><p>So Keith told the story of the sudden attack and his fight with the disfigured Highlander, though he left out his speculations about the Pretender's son. 'I have no notion who the man was,' he said, 'although...'—for the sight of Ewen's own plaid had recalled to him a fact which had struck him at the time—'I believe he wore the Cameron tartan.'</p><p>Ewen had looked increasingly grave throughout the story, but now he raised his head in certain recognition. 'I know him,' he said slowly. 'Oh, I had hoped he would not find you...'</p><p>'You know who he was?'</p><p>Ewen nodded. 'Lachlan MacMartin, my foster-brother—you remember him.'</p><p>This was a surprise, to say the least. Of course Keith well remembered the low regard in which Lachlan had held him, when they had met at Ardroy last year, but it hardly seemed to justify this so long after the fact. 'But why should he... Is he travelling with you?'</p><p>'No—I should not have let him away from me, if he was! No, if what I hear is true, he has been wandering alone these many months, looking for you—for he heard and believed the awful lies put about over what you did for me on Ben Loy, and wished to revenge himself upon you. I am more sorry than I can say that he managed to find you.' And indeed he looked it.</p><p>Keith said nothing; he was wondering vaguely how much more he was to be called upon to suffer for the sake of that 'philanthropy' in the shieling on Ben Loy. 'Well, I suppose I am grateful that he has not succeeded in his purpose,' he said at last.</p><p>An expression which he could not read, it was gone so rapidly, passed across Ewen's face at these words. 'As am I,' he said, in a tone which did not quite conceal the emotion behind it. He was looking at the ground, for which Keith was grateful, for he could not have met Ewen's eyes just then.</p><p>'And,' said Keith, wishing to divert the conversation, 'how did you come to be here? For I gather that you are travelling to the coast—but not alone, surely? Where are your companions?'</p><p>And Ewen told him how he had left Ardroy accompanied by young Angus MacMartin and two others of his men, intending to take ship for France and exile; and how, the day before, they had very nearly walked right into a patrol of red-coated soldiers going along the road from Morar. 'Angus, scouting ahead of us, could not be sure that they had not seen him,' he said, 'so we split up to evade them. I—the only one amongst us who could be of much interest to them—headed inland, away from the road... it was fortunate indeed that I did.'</p><p>If he had formed any conjectures about the identity of those redcoats, he said nothing of them; but Keith replied, rather wryly, 'I suppose I ought to wish the men under my command success in all their endeavours; but I am very glad you managed to escape from them.'</p><p>Ewen laughed a little at that. And, truly, it did not much signify if Keith's men had failed to intercept him, for he was not what they sought: they had a greater prize to think of than one banished laird who was not even on the list of attainted. No, it was no shame to them.</p><p>Perhaps Ewen had perceived something of the turn his thoughts had taken, for he said, more quietly, 'In any case, I believe you have sufficient excuse for not attempting to take me captive.'</p><p>Keith looked at him. 'No, that is true,' he said, and sighed. He felt much stronger for having had something to eat, but he was still in no state to walk far, let alone fight, and the dilemma that would have presented itself had he met Ewen under any other circumstances than these was avoided. But these thoughts gave rise to another. 'Ewen, you should go,' he said. 'I am fit to last the night now, and there will be a patrol out looking for me before long, for I was expected back at Arisaig this evening. They will find me soon enough, I expect—but they must not find you.'</p><p>'Leave you!' Ewen sounded really shocked. 'No, I cannot.'</p><p>'Why not?' Keith demanded. He did not intend to allow Ewen, having had such good fortune on his journey so far, to take pointless risks for the sake of—for the sake of what had made his voice shake when he spoke of his gratitude for Lachlan's failure, was how that thought was going to have ended. Keith avoided that question and said simply, 'It is too great a risk.'</p><p>Ewen looked away. 'For one thing, it is too dark,' he said. 'There is no moonlight under these clouds—I could not get far. And I do not believe that you are as strong as you say.' Keith was about to object hotly to this, but Ewen went on, 'But most of all, I know Lachlan. He may have run from you once, but he cannot have failed to see that you were wounded, and he would not abandon his purpose. If he comes back for you—if he finds you here...' He paused for several moments, then finished, 'So I cannot leave you.'</p><p>And there was little Keith could say to that; so he said nothing, but reflected on the cruel irony that, staying together here, each of them was in mortal danger from the other's friends.</p><p>Ewen had moved away from him, and was steadily placing more wood on the fire. Beyond its little circle of light the night was dark, for, as Ewen had said, the moon and stars were hidden in cloud. The wind still blew along the little glen below them, and over the hilltops above, and the air already held a reminder that the warmth of summer was departing. Keith shifted round, testing whether he could look towards the track and discover if, were anyone to come along it carrying a lantern, he would be able to see them in time to warn Ewen—but a sharp pain in his side quickly put a stop to this effort, and he turned back towards the fire, wincing.</p><p>This did not escape Ewen's notice. 'Is it worse again?' he said. 'Here, let me see.' Having examined his own bandage and satisfied himself that Keith was not about to bleed to death, he looked again into Keith's face, worry still written over every feature of his own.</p><p>'You need not be so much concerned about me,' said Keith, almost laughing a little. 'You could hardly be expected to. I shall be well enough, I assure you.'</p><p>Ewen had turned away again. 'It is only what you did for me, up on Ben Loy—and with far less reason, for you had not that debt to repay.'</p><p>Sorely tried as he had been by the various adventures of the day, Keith's inhibitions were not in their best order, and he could not keep from scoffing to himself at this. 'Far less reason...!' What his own reasons had been then, he now knew only too well.</p><p>Ewen, sitting beside the fire, was looking towards him, still with that slightly puzzled frown; but behind it was another expression. For a while neither of them spoke. Then Ewen said abruptly, 'You are cold—here—', unfastened his plaid and covered Keith with part of it, keeping the other end for himself. Keith, who supposed he had been shivering a little in the cool night air, could not bring himself to protest at this; and it did oblige Ewen to sit closer to him.</p><p>Eventually Keith said, pulling a corner of the plaid across his shoulder, 'I had thought of you, hiding safe in the heather above Ardroy, while all our strength was kept watching the coast here... What made you leave it?'</p><p>'I would not have been safe there,' said Ewen, speaking slowly. 'Not for good. My aunt was determined to represent that to me, when I returned. As was my cousin Archie—Dr Cameron, you will remember him; I wish he were here now, for he could do more for you than I can!—he came to see me there, and his arguments persuaded me that I must go into exile for the safety of my home and my friends.' He looked as though he were about to say something more, but did not.</p><p>'I am sorry that you should have to leave your home,' said Keith quietly. </p><p>Ewen looked at him. 'Thank you,' he said. 'It was something to see it once more, at least. I had thought I never would again.' He placed another stick on the fire, then said, 'You will not have heard, I suppose, that the house was not burned, as I was sure it would be? It was standing unharmed when I returned to it.'</p><p>Keith remembered the house of Ardroy as it had been when he stayed there last summer: it was hardly a place of welcome to him then, and yet Ewen had done so very much to make it one... He was more glad than he could say to know that it was still standing. He asked how it had happened, and Ewen told him the story as his aunt had related it to him.</p><p>'I do not know,' he finished, 'whether that officer meant to spare us, or whether it was simply chance. I could believe he did. But, by whatever good fortune, spared we were.'</p><p>Keith hoped he was right to believe it; he wondered vaguely who the man was, and whether he could do anything for him. But, he supposed, it made no matter now.</p><p>They talked in this way for a while longer. Ewen clearly wanted to speak more of Ardroy, and told Keith several happy stories of his younger, untroubled days there, swimming in the loch, walking along its shore or going hunting in the hills. And Keith, in turn, told him about his own home, such as it was, at Stowe House, and the brief memories there from before he had gone '<i>over the hills and far away</i>' to serve King and country. Then their talk passed to lighter things; and that Ewen went on talking partly for the sake of keeping Keith's mind off the pain of his wound was endearingly obvious. But, Keith could believe, another reason showed itself in the little smiles he cast upon him from time to time.</p><p>He did not trouble himself with worrying over just what this might signify; he was too tired, and in any case...</p><p>'Ewen,' he said suddenly, opening his eyes.</p><p>'Yes?' Ewen was at once all concern.</p><p>'If your foster-father's second sight was true—about our meeting five times—then this meeting is to be our last. No, that is not right—we should not be here at all, for Fort Augustus was the fifth time.'</p><p>'That is true,' said Ewen, frowning, 'and, yet, here we are. I remember thinking just that, when I was at Ardroy—I cannot account for it.'</p><p>'I intend to see you again, if I can. Whatever any bird should think of it.'</p><p>Ewen smiled at that. 'Perhaps I should not cast fate aside so easily,' he said, 'but I agree.'</p><p>'We shall not be able to write to each other while you are in France, I suppose.'</p><p>'No—though I shall certainly try to get a letter to you, should the opportunity ever present itself.'</p><p>'And one day you shall be able to come back,' said Keith. 'I look forward to it.'</p><p>'You shall come and visit me at Ardroy, when I do. Truly as my guest, this time.'</p><p>Keith laughed, meeting Ewen's smiling gaze, and there was a sort of quiet acknowledgement in the look that passed between them. Then Keith sighed and closed his eyes again, for he was quite exhausted; and he fell asleep with the fire still crackling softly at the centre of its little pool of light, and Ewen's hand in his.</p><p>*</p><p>By morning the clouds above had been joined by a dense fog come in from the sea. It was scarcely possible to see down to the water, and something of the chill of winter seemed to have crept in with the damp grey drops. The fire had died down, and when Keith woke he was heartily glad of the plaid still wrapped around him, for more than one reason.</p><p>None of this gloom made nearly the impression upon his spirits that it might have done, had he been alone. Indeed, he felt stronger than ever; and, as such, it was imperative that he return to the quarters at Arisaig as soon as he might.</p><p>'Yes, I believe I can walk well enough,' he said, in answer to Ewen's inquiry. Ewen had insisted on accompanying him at least part of the way there.</p><p>'Are you sure? You may take the garron if you wish—she is very well-behaved.'</p><p>He declined this offer, however, privately thinking that Ewen probably needed the pony more than he did; for, though he looked to be in much better health than he had when Keith last saw him at Fort Augustus, he still went with a limp.</p><p>They set out a little way above the track, but within sight of it, and without further discussion of their reason for keeping away from it. Keith was uncomfortably aware that the more he recovered his strength, the thinner became his excuse for making no attempt to take Ewen prisoner, and that question was the last thing he wished to dwell on now. It was a strange thing; he felt somehow that the light of day ought to have dispelled the fragile peace they had enjoyed the previous night, but now he found it was not so. Making their slow way across the rough ground, between the hills and the clouds, they were as close together as ever. He wondered at it.</p><p>At last they were within a stone's throw of the road into Arisaig, and here they stopped in the shelter of a group of pines, for Keith could not now allow Ewen to go any further. 'You have risked far too much for my sake as it is,' he said, 'and I shall be safe from here. I am almost within hailing-distance of my men, if they have stayed here after all.'</p><p>Ewen gave him a sad smile; but, he thought, there was something distracted in the look. 'I know. You need not argue it any more; I am satisfied of your safety now.'</p><p>Keith inclined his head, and took his knapsack from where it had been slung across the pony's back, wincing a little at the weight; he would have to leave it here and send someone back for it later. He was glad to have an excuse to turn away from Ewen, if only for a moment. 'Then I must leave you again,' he said at last.</p><p>That odd, distracted expression had returned. 'No,' said Ewen in what was almost a whisper; and then, in a clearer if not a steadier voice, 'No. I cannot leave you just yet. There is something I must say first.'</p><p>Keith was not sure what to make of this.</p><p>'Yesterday evening,' Ewen began, 'when I had turned back towards the coast, and I came upon that place by the burn, I saw a figure in a red coat, lying on the ground at the foot of a tree... I knew at once who it was, for it was just such a coincidence as those that brought us together before. But I thought at first—' Here he stopped.</p><p>'You thought that your foster-brother had succeeded in his purpose,' said Keith slowly.</p><p>Ewen nodded. 'It was some time after that before I was entirely convinced that he would not succeed yet. I cannot quite describe...'</p><p>'There is no need to.' And Ewen smiled at that.</p><p>'But I must say something, Keith; for having gained you back again I must part from you, for I know not how long, and I cannot do so without telling you more than I did last night of how I care for you—how I—'</p><p>Throughout this exchange they had been drawing slowly closer together, and now Keith took Ewen's hand again, which stilled its trembling a little; and, although Ewen did not seem able to finish that last sentence, he understood its meaning perfectly well. He stood for a few moments regarding Ewen in a sort of silent wonder, and then he closed the gap that remained between them.</p><p>Ewen put his arms around him—very gently, and carefully avoiding his wound—and for a little while Arisaig, his men, his mission and the Pretender's son were all put quite out of Keith's mind.</p><p>When at last he saw them again, Ewen's eyes were more blue than ever.</p><p>'This,' said Keith, not sure what else to say, 'is a fine time to declare yourself.' And, truly, he had not expected it; though he had guessed, or hoped, since seeing the look in Ewen's eyes beside the fire last night that the confession was there to be made.</p><p>Ewen merely smiled. 'What other time was there?'</p><p>He was right, of course, and Keith kissed him again for it; give them only a few more minutes...</p><p>When they finally broke apart Keith, on a sudden impulse, said, 'Take this,' and drew the signet-ring from his hand and held it out. Ewen took it and slipped it onto his own finger, then pressed Keith's hand again between his own.</p><p>'I wish I had some token to give you also,' he said.</p><p>'The memory of all you have done for me shall be enough; I am sure of that,' said Keith. And the smile that Ewen gave him then would surely be as dear a memory.</p><p>Surely, he thought, it would not be for so very long. Difficult as the last few months had made it to believe so, there must be some clemency for the defeated rebels at last; Ewen would return to his home, and, no longer enemies, they would be able to meet quite simply, as any two friends might. Keith laughed inwardly at himself for that, almost dispelling his own anxious thoughts: he must go on complicating things further, for they were no longer simply two friends either.</p><p>And now they could not delay the inevitable parting any further. They kissed once more; and then Keith turned away and walked down the track which would lead him back to his company—and, he hoped, a surgeon and a proper bed. He stopped only once to look back. Ewen was still standing beneath the shelter of the pines, the red of his plaid beginning to dissolve into the grey fog, watching him go.</p><p>*</p><p>Some hours later, Ewen lay in a little hollow hidden between the roots of two tall alder trees at the foot of a hillside, looking out to where the now brilliant sun shone on the water of a tiny lochan and trying not to wonder when he would see such a sight again.</p><p>He had reached the point which he and his companions had agreed upon as a rendezvous, a mile or two to the north of where he had left Keith and a little inland, to find them waiting for him. And with them, to his immense relief, was Lachlan, who had been found wandering in the hills the previous evening by his nephew. Angus, not wishing to have anything more to do with redcoats, had persuaded him to remain with them; and he now learnt swiftly enough of the error he had made. Ewen endured his copious apologies, and restrained his own feelings towards him, with as much forbearance as he could muster. </p><p>He managed a little more attention to the others' news: for yesterday a woman from one of the nearby crofts had given them some bread and, what was more welcome yet, an assurance that her brother, a fisherman at Morar, would help them in the matter of a boat. They would make for Morar this evening. For now, they had found this good hiding-place and were taking the opportunity to get some rest.</p><p>But Ewen could not sleep, though he was tired enough after the last day and night. Above the hollow the hillside climbed steeply away from them, and from where he lay he could see the summit far above outlined against a sky that was now as clear as though the morning's fog had never been. The heather up there was still in bloom, and higher yet above its brilliant colour an eagle was circling slowly. And beyond the moss-covered roots and stones that guarded his hiding-place, the ghost of yesterday's wind whispered amongst the reeds that fringed the lochan and sent tiny ripples over the surface of the water. He did not know the name of this place, but so many of its details were familiar to him—so many things, so small in themselves and yet the stuff of a heart's foundations, that he was leaving. And now he had even more reason for grief than before, for it was not only his home that he would leave in leaving Scotland. He thought again of that morning, of those few brief kisses and the promise they had held.</p><p>Near the shore of the lochan, under the shelter of the reeds, the <i>learg</i> whose cry they had heard yesterday night was swimming back and forth at an unhurried pace, going about the peaceful routines of its small life; and he wondered if everything was now to remind him of Keith.</p><p>It was not the last thing that did. Some time later, when sleep was at last overtaking him, another bird flew upon broad wings over the water, and turned its course away from Arisaig whence it had come; and, as Ewen watched, the slow wingbeats of the heron bore it away inland, back towards Ardroy.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The <i>learg</i>, or red-throated diver, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4B48uh3LHwA">does have a very evocative call</a>, and I thought this was an appropriate fandom for some atmospheric birdwatching. :D</p></blockquote><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25409539">[Podfic] Up in the Grey Hills</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luzula_podfic/pseuds/Luzula">Luzula (Luzula_podfic)</a>
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